Blindsided by the sudden death of his mother, 21-year-old Will Lockhart can no longer afford the rent or bear the haunting memories of their shared Massachusetts apartment. While packing up his mother's belongings, he discovers his long-dead father's deed to a house in upstate New York. With nowhere else to go, he settles there, intent on making a fresh start. But odd things happen as soon as Will moves in. He's unnerved by evidence of fire damage in the cottage, and alarmed by the seizure his elderly next-door neighbor suffers upon meeting him. Most shocking of all are the rumors of a long-ago murder in his house. Now, trapped in a town full of strangers, unsure of whether local murmurings are true or simply small-town gossip, he's determined to discover what really happened all those years ago, and how he's connected to the chaos. The truth will set him free. Or get him killed.
Book Details:
Genre: Psychological Suspense, Domestic Suspense Published by: Creative James Media Publication Date: September 22, 2026 Number of Pages: 344 ISBN: 9781965648919 (ISBN10: 1965648916) Book Links:Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads
Author Bio:
Jennifer Sadera first worked in the publishing industry as a junior copywriter for NAL/Penguin. She has written and edited for newspapers and magazines as a freelancer and on the staffs of major women's publications, Woman's World and Redbook.
From Samantha Hastings and Covenant Communications, Inc.
About Friend Zoned
Four years ago, Trina Kimball confessed her love to her lifelong best friend, Dan Latu, only to be rejected. A doctoral degree from Oxford University and a published book later, Trina has cut Dan from her life and moved on. But when she inherits her grandmother’s house, she returns home to Salt Lake City to renovate it.
Dan shows up on her front porch looking for a plus-one to his high school reunion, and Trina realizes her childhood friend is just as dangerous for her heart as he used to be. Counting on his visit home being short, Trina doesn’t know what to do when Dan keeps showing up. From removing carpets and painting walls to repairing cars and boosting her author career, Dan seems determined to fix the friendship they once had.
Trina has decided to focus on love, not fear, but will her heart ever be satisfied in the friend zone?
Samantha Hastings met her husband in a turkey sandwich line. They live in Salt Lake City, Utah, where she spends most of her time reading, eating popcorn, having tea parties, and chasing her four kids. She has degrees from Brigham Young University, University of North Texas, and University of Reading (UK). She writes cozy murder mysteries under Samantha Larsen.
Today SamiJo McQuiston and Rockstar Book Tours are
revealing the cover & trailer for THE HAUNT, her new cozy urban fantasy
with humor which releases October 8, 2024! Check out the awesome cover and
enter the giveaway!
My name is Hecate Grimm, and I own a
bookshop. It’s pretty average as far as bookstores go. Nothing special to see
here, or at least that’s what my regulars believe. They also think I’m a
ventriloquist, special effects guru, and dedicated actress.
Clearly, when it was raining brains,
the vast majority went out with umbrellas. I’ve told them, time and time again
that I’m a witch, and this is a haunted bookstore, which is why it’s called The
Haunt.
But no, it’s much easier to believe I
wasted time learning to throw my voice and hanging invisible wires all over the
place. After all, you’re modern people. How could anything supernatural be
going on right under your noses?
Maiden, Mother, and Crone—the
stupidity of it makes me sick. I guess you can come in if you must. Look around
and actually buy something since you’ve had the audacity to interrupt my book.
Just don’t wear out your welcome or waste my time with your idiotic questions.
I have fictional characters to get back to, and they’re all more interesting
than you.
Book Trailer:
Excerpt:
My name is Hecate Grimm, and I own
a bookshop. For those of you not into myths and legends, you pronounce my name,
Hecka (like we’re going to have a hecka of a time) and Tea (Like that ambrosia
from the gods that keeps me kicking). Heh-kuh-tee. I have two sisters, Eos and
Nyx, who are also named after Greek deities. What can I say? My parents love
their mythology.
Now, the shop is
fairly normal, as far as bookstores go. Nothing special to see here, or at
least that’s what my regulars believe. They also think I’m a ventriloquist,
special effects guru, and dedicated actress. No one said they were the brightest
crayons in the box. After all, they’re modern people. How could anything
supernatural be going on right under their noses?
We call the store, The
Haunt. I inherited it from my grandmother, but it’s not one of those family
things. Sometimes it works out that way, but The Haunt must be inherited by a
witch or warlock and, hopefully, one who’s interested in books, though that
hasn’t always been the case either.
“Come on, Hecate,”
Jason whined. “They’re in good shape. Just give me two credits for the lot.”
“No,” I said without
looking up from the newest Harry Dresden novel. “That box smells like cigars
and unwashed genitals. I’ll never be able to flip them.”
“I’ll admit I should
have ditched the box, but the books are solid. Look, they don’t stink at all.”
He said, taking a big whiff of a paperback with a black and orange cover. I
moved my head to the side as he shoved it under my nose. There was no
noticeable smell, but I disliked anyone in my bubble.
“Jason, you have two
seconds to vacate my personal space before you’re banned for life,” I said. He
backed up quickly.
“Sorry, Hecate. They
really are good books, though. Come on, just one credit, then? That’s a
bargain. All these for one measly credit.”
I glared at him and
glanced into the box. There were likely a few salvageable items, but he was
being pushy, and I couldn’t reward that type of behavior.
About SamiJo McQuiston:
SamiJo is a first-class shenanigator, decorated coddiwompler,
narrator, creator, and author of The Abney Kelly series and The Haunt (coming
October 8th). She also has a short story, One Samhain Night, published in the
UJ Plainsong literary journal in April 2024, and a poem, The Bottom, coming out
in collaboration with other North Dakota authors in late 2024. She lives in
North Dakota with her husband (Andy), dogs (Puck, Enzo, and Bailey), and three
cats (Horus, Anubis, and Snow Kitty). In her spare time, she reads, writes,
listens to audiobooks, plays video games, and enjoys D&D on the weekends.
On a more serious note, writing is everything to SamiJo. As a
sickly child, she often spent her time indoors or at the hospital before they
figured out she had asthma. At that time, books were her best friends. Without
fairy tales, the Dear America Books, and authors like Diana Wynne Jones, Jim
Sukach, Anne Martin, and Richard Peck, she would have been unthinkably lonely.
She aims to write stories that give people a much-needed escape from reality
and create places to go when getting out the front door is too much to bear.
Some things in life were inevitable; death, taxes, and lying, whoremongering men.
One woman would never be enough for one man.
So I traded in men for a Harley.
Nothing beats that kind of power between my legs.
Then I blinked.
And he was there.
~
Some things in life were inevitable; death, taxes, and badge bunnies willing to hop into my bed.
The only problem is I’m a one woman kind of man.
In my line of work, I’ve seen it all.
Nothing bothers me until I find a woman’s wrecked body.
When she blinked,
My world changed.
Forever doesn’t come close to giving me enough of her.
🏍 🏍 🏍
🏍 🏍 🏍
Click HERE to enter the MEGA Cover Reveal Giveaway!
🏍 🏍 🏍
Danielle is Southern born and raised. When not writing, she is riding on her Harley. Most days she can be found in jeans, t-shirt, and cowgirl boots. She has over twenty pairs. And don't get her started on her kickass biker boots. She believes that Cinderella had it all figured out, "One shoe can change your life, provided those shoes look fucking fabulous.
"Danielle is proud of her Greek heritage and often uses her knowledge of the Greek culture and language in her books. She and her husband, that she lovingly calls Beta, travel a large portion of the year and devote every weekend to date nights; he claims to be a willing test pilot for all steamy scenes. He's convinced her that she should write what she knows (and has tried, at least once).
Danielle's favorite heroes are known as Beta heroes, "Men that open the door for you during the day and throw you against them at night.
"Betas write love notes, some with sexual innuendos.
Betas send flowers, some with sexual innuendos.
If someone asks a Beta, How's life?. He'll reply, "She's wonderful."
Her sarcastic sense of humor comes out in every book; she is often her own entertainment. Her goal is to write books that make the reader laugh and fall in love without all of the emotional baggage that we face every day in our real lives.
And Friday, is her second favorite F word (if you hadn't figured that out yet).
🏍 🏍 🏍
Sign up HERE to participate in the Release Day Promotion!
Sienna
Keller saw how men used her mother, and from an early age she swore she’d never
allow it to happen to her. So when she meets smooth-talking billionaire Gavin
Crane, who uses his connections to help her art career, she resolves to keep
things strictly professional—no matter how gorgeous he is.
Gavin
might be the son of the head of the Kavanagh organized crime family, but he
wants no part of that life. It’s important to him to prove to Sienna that he’s
a good guy. But when she winds up in the hospital with a gunshot wound, he is
driven to exact revenge. His father agrees to provide security to watch over
her as well as find the man who shot her, but at a cost—Gavin must come back
into the family business.
As
Sienna begins to let her guard down around Gavin, seeing the kind, caring man
he’s always wanted her to see, his secrets begin to pile up. Has she done the
one thing she vowed never to do—trusted her heart to the wrong man?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Award
winning author, Michele Arris, writes steamy contemporary romance.
Michele
is always plotting out her characters’ next move. Even when she’s not seated in
front of her laptop writing about strong-willed, professional heroines and the
complex heroes who strive to have them, she’s plotting scenes in her head.
“I
love to write story where my characters are guaranteed their Happily Ever
After.”
In
her spare time, Michele enjoys reading all types of romance genres. She loves
paranormal romance as well as historical romances, enjoys watching period
classics (Little Dorrit, The Buccaneers, and Persuasion to name a few),
actually looks forward to working out, is a holistic enthusiast/vitamin junkie,
and spending time with family and friends – simply enjoying life.
We invite you to Ellen Butler's THE BRASS COMPASS Cover Reveal! Please leave a comment to let Ellen know you stopped by and don't forget to order your copy!
Title:
THE BRASS COMPASS Author: Ellen Butler Publisher: Power to the Pen Pages: 362 Genre: Historical Thriller/Suspense
A beautiful American spy flees into the night. On her own, she must live
by her wits to evade capture and make it to the safety of the Allied forces.
Lily Saint James grew up traveling the European continent, learning
languages as she went. In 1938, her mother’s abrupt death brings her back home
to Washington, D.C., and after the bombing of Pearl Harbor,
Lily comes to the attention of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS). Her
knowledge of German, French, and Italian makes her the perfect OSS Agent, and
her quick thinking places her as a nanny in the household of an important
German Army Colonel, where she is able to gather intelligence for the Allies.
After her marketplace contact goes missing, she makes a late-night trip to her
secondary contact only to find him under interrogation by the SS. After he
commits suicide, she flees into the frigid winter night carrying false
identification papers that are now dangerous and a mini film cartridge with
vital strategic information. In order to survive, Lily must make it out of Germany, into the hands of Allied-controlled France, through a path fraught with peril.
Pre-order
Links:
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“Was ist sein Name?” What is his name? The SS officer’s backlit
shadow loomed over his victim as he yelled into the face of the shrinking man
on the third-story balcony. “We know you’ve been passing messages. Tell us, who
is your contact?” he continued in German.
Lenz’s gray-haired head shook like
a frightened mouse. With his back to me, I was too far away to hear the mumbled
response or the Nazi’s next question. I pulled my dark wool coat tighter and
sank deeper into the shadow of the apartment building’s doorway across the
street from where my contact underwent interrogation. The pounding of my heart
pulsated in my ears, and I held my breath as I strained to listen to the
conversation. In front of Lenz’s building stood a black Mercedes-Benz with its
running lights aglow, no doubt the vehicle that brought the SS troops. None of
the neighboring buildings showed any light, as residents cowered behind locked doors
praying the SS wouldn’t come knocking. This was a working-class neighborhood,
and everyone knew it was best to keep your mouth shut and not stick your nose
in the business of the Schutzstaffel.
Their presence at Lenz’s home
explained why my contact at the bakery was absent from our assignation earlier
today. I dreaded to imagine what they had done to Otto for him to give up
Lenz’s name … or worse, mine. Even though I’d never told Otto my name, a
description of me could easily lead the SS to their target.
“Lügner!” Liar!
I flinched as the officer’s ringing
accusation bounced off the brick buildings. A young SS Stormtrooper stepped out
onto the balcony and requested his superior look at something in his hand. I
should have taken their distraction to slip away into the darkness and run;
instead I stayed, anxiously listening, to hear if Lenz would break under the SS
grilling and reveal my identity. Clearly, they suspected he was involved in
spying and would take him away. They probably also knew he had information to
spill and would eventually torture it out of him, which was the only reason he
hadn’t been shot on sight. It was only a matter of time before he gave me away.
My friends in the French Resistance had been directed to hold out for two days
before releasing names to allow the spies to disband and disappear. I wasn’t
sure if the German network applied the same rules, so I remained to see if he
would break before they took him.
“Where did you find this?” the
officer asked.
The trooper indicated inside the
apartment.
“Zeig es mir.” Show me. He followed his subordinate through the
doorway into the building.
Lenz turned and braced himself
against the balcony. I watched in horror as he climbed atop the railing.
“Halt!” a bellow from inside rang out.
Lenz didn’t hesitate, and I averted
my eyes, biting down hard on my cold knuckles, as he took his final moments out
of the hands of the Nazis. Sounds of shattering glass and buckling metal ripped
through the darkness as his body slammed into the SS vehicle. In my periphery,
a neighboring blackout curtain shifted.
“Scheisse!” the SS officer swore as he and his subordinate leaned
over the railing to see Lenz’s body sprawled across their car. “Search the
apartment. Tear it apart!”
The moment they crossed the threshold,
I sprinted into the night.
My breath puffed out in small
plumes of smoke as I dodged through alleys, in and out of darkened doorways,
moving on the balls of my feet. Silently, I cursed the cloudless sky as the
moonlight bounced off the cobblestones, its brightness clear enough to land a
plane. Unless waiting at midnight at a
drop zone for needed supplies, a spy preferred the inky blackness of cloudy
skies. Especially when escaping the enemy.
A few kilometers from Lenz’s
apartment, I paused behind the brick rubble of a bombed-out building. My gaze
searched the area for any sign of movement. Standing alert, I held my breath,
attuning my senses to the nighttime sounds, and listened for the whisper of
cloth, the click of a boot heel, or heaven forbid, the cock of a gun. The
thundering of my heartbeat slowed, and I balled my fists to stop my shaking
hands. All seemed quiet … for the moment.
My fingers curled around the tiny
film cartridge, filled with information vital to the Allied cause, nestled in my
coat pocket. Dropping down to one knee, I slipped the heel of my right boot
aside and tucked it into the hidden cavity. The coded message I’d planned to
pass to Lenz would have to be burned, but I couldn’t take the chance of
lighting a fire right now. It would have to wait until morning.
<!--[if !mso]>
About the Author
Ellen Butler is a novelist writing critically acclaimed
suspense thrillers, and award winning romance. The Brass Compass was
inspired by the brave women who served in the OSS,
British Special Operations Executive and French Resistance. Ellen is a member
of The OSS Society and her fascination with WWII history originally piqued when
her grandfather revealed his role as a cryptographer during the war. Ellen
holds a Master’s Degree in Public Administration and Policy, and her history
includes a long list of writing for dry, but illuminating, professional
newsletters and windy papers on public policy. She lives in the Virginia
suburbs of Washington, D.C.
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